Letters
by SewingSlytherin
Summary: Hermione practices her Bulgarian by writing letters to a certain quidditch star. He practices his English by responding. Viktor and Hermione.


Sixteen-year-old Hermione Granger sat in the common room, writing to her boyfriend. She was fairly certain that no one would be able to read her letter, if they even wanted to read what looked to be an essay with how long it was.

Her, admittedly novice, Bulgarian note wasn't exactly something that her classmates could read. None of them were interested in learning. And while there were translation charms, they were particularly advanced. Learning a language was a much easier task, especially considering that the charms translated word for word, which lost a lot of meaning.

"What'cha doing Mione?" Ron asked.

"Writing," she said without even looking up at him.

"Obviously. Do you have time to check my potions essay?"

Hermione sighed. "Isn't that due today?"

"That's why I'm asking you to look it over now," he said.

She sighed and held out her hand for his essay. It was always the same with Ron. He would wait until the last moment, and then ask for her help. He was just lucky that she had a free period, and could help him before potions started.

She scribbled on his page, furiously correcting something in just about every paragraph. Most of it was grammatical, thank goodness. It seemed like Ron was starting to pay attention to his work, but he still had a few points that he needed to go over.

Content that she had corrected it enough for him to fix and turn it in, she handed it back over to Ron. "Here."

"Thanks a ton, Mione," Ron said. He pulled out a quill and a fresh sheet of parchment and wrote furiously, his handwriting huge in his haste.

She shook her head and turned back to her letter. She carefully shaped each letter, still getting used to the alphabet. All too soon it was time to go to potions. She carefully rolled up her letter and spelled it so that it would stay in her bag.

She hefted the bag onto her shoulder and climbed out the portrait hole and headed down to the dungeons. It wasn't the longest walk, but getting from a tower all the way down to the dungeons wasn't a short walk either.

Once there, she pulled her potions essay out, ready to turn in. Slughorn took it, smiling kindly at her. She had to admit that she liked him more than Snape. But that wasn't necessarily the hardest thing, since Snape had never been the kindest person.

* * *

She found it nearly impossible to focus on the lesson at hand. Her mind drifted, though she managed to follow the directions exactly, so nothing exploded in her face. That was a nice thing, even if her potion was slightly the wrong shade. She still got full marks.

"What's going on Hermione?" Harry asked after the lesson.

She sighed internally as she adjusted the strap of the bag that was digging into her shoulder. Harry wasn't usually this perceptive. And when he was, it was usually about something to do with Malfoy.

"I'm fine. Just a little preoccupied with another subject," she told him. And it wasn't exactly a lie. It was another subject. A foreign language, and a boy that went along with it.

"If you need any help… What am I saying? You're Hermione Granger. You aren't going to need any help. Just some time in the library."

Hermione laughed. "Thanks for the vote of confidence. I'll help you with charms after dinner?"

"That sounds good." He walked off to enjoy his free period, while Hermione headed off to the library.

Once in the safety of the books, she sat down at a table and pulled out her letter. It was already three pages long, and very detailed. But she had wanted to tell Viktor everything about the school year and what was going on.

In comparison to the year before, things were fairly tame. But she had discussed, in detail, the difference between Snape and Umbridge. She was fairly certain that Snape was the better choice. And a little confused as to why Dumbledore hadn't put him in the defense against the dark arts position sooner.

About an hour later, she decided that she had written enough, and put her letter into an envelope. She really needed to, considering that it was about five pages long. Knowing that she still had time before transfiguration, she walked to the owlery and sent her letter on its way.

* * *

About a week later, she got a letter. It was written in English. Viktor had wanted to practice his English as much as she wanted to learn Bulgarian. It had worked out fairly well for them.

 _Dear Hermione,_

 _It hasn't been very long since your last letter. But it seems like school is treating you well. You have plenty of things to keep you occupied. And studies are very important._

 _I've been flying with my team. Things aren't nearly as interesting here as they are for you. But even here there are rumors of Death Eaters even here. It's frightening to think of the spread of these ideas._

 _I hope you keep safe. And I really enjoy your letters and how much detail you put in them. It's almost like you're here with me, telling me all about it._

 _Viktor._

It was short. It was sweet. It was entirely Viktor. She read it almost thirteen times before hiding it away. There was no reason for Ron to find it. Especially after the last year. He'd thrown a fit, and Hermione was still unsure as to why.

She pulled out another piece of parchment to respond, and started scribbling. She wasn't sure what to say, so she just wrote the first things that came into her head. She wrote voraciously, but that was Hermione.

She and Viktor were opposites in many ways, but they fit together in a way that they didn't quite understand but it was more comfortable than anything they had experienced before.

Yes, Hermione wrote a lot, and Viktor always responded. It was almost like the distance between them wasn't as great.


End file.
